


Crossroads

by walkwithursus



Series: Barbossa & Jack [1]
Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), Pirates of the Caribbean: The Price of Freedom - A. C. Crispin
Genre: Age of Sail, Drinking, M/M, Weapons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:09:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28412178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkwithursus/pseuds/walkwithursus
Summary: Set after the events of The Price of Freedom. Jack has been pardoned by the Pirate Lords for his part in assisting the rogues and is now a free man. Before he can leave Shipwreck City, Barbossa tracks him down for a final confrontation.
Relationships: Hector Barbossa/Jack Sparrow
Series: Barbossa & Jack [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1013391
Kudos: 19





	Crossroads

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why this has been sitting in my drafts for two years, but here it is.

After six weeks in a cramped cell in the bowels of Shipwreck City, Jack Sparrow was a free man. It was over. The formal inquiry into the crimes of his youth had been concluded, and he had been granted clemency by three of the four attending Pirate Lords. 

Despite the happy occasion, Jack did not feel up to celebrating. He awaited Esmeralda in The Drunken Lady purely out of gratitude, so that he might bid her farewell before departing within the hour. Normally he wouldn’t have paid the conglomeration of Shipwreck City a backward glance, but as her testimony was instrumental to his defense, he felt he owed her that much.

A shadow fell across the table, accompanied by a stirring of air that sputtered the candles nearest his corner. The hairs on the back of Jack’s neck raised, and as he shifted to look up at his visitor he braced himself for the worst. 

Hector Barbossa loomed over him, unsmiling. Five years had hardly changed the old man’s grizzled, weather-beaten face, though he looked meaner than Jack remembered. Colder, somehow, as though his clear blue eyes were but chips of ice in his skull. It was a stark contrast to the last memory Jack had of him; they’d sat in this same tavern the night the pirate lord Borya had confessed to sinking the Cobra, Barbossa’s schooner. That night, Barbossa had bought Jack a drink to thank him for his part in bringing the rogue pirates to justice. He had been red-nosed and pink-cheeked then, flushed from round after round of ale, and wearing a smile so genuine it was damn near indecent. The man that towered above Jack now bore no trace of that same merriment. Jack took one look at the thick muzzle of the flintlock pistol holstered at Barbossa’s hip and felt his stomach pool with dread. 

Barbossa gestured to the chair opposite Jack. “This seat taken?” 

Jack shrugged tremulously. The chair legs squealed across the floorboards as Barbossa kicked them out, and the old wood creaked as he settled his weight into it, slow and sure. 

There was a tense silence. Jack watched for any sign that Barbossa might be verging toward his weapon, but the old man kept his hands visible and open on the table. When at last he spoke, Barbossa’s voice was gruff and humorless. 

“Relax, boy. I’m not here to kill ye.” 

“I am relaxed,” Jack said, and he took a short, perfunctory drink of rum to prove it. 

Barbossa flagged the barman, and within seconds he’d placed before him a goblet and a freshly opened bottle of dark wine. He poured as Jack drummed his fingers on the table. 

“I didn’t see you at the trial,” Jack said at length. 

Barbossa smirked. 

“Looked out for me, did ye? Well, I’d’ve been there if I could, but as luck would have it I only just got in.” 

“I trust you’ve heard the verdict, though. Seeing as you have yet to run me through.”

“Aye. _Pardoned,_ ” Barbossa spat the word like a curse. “By three of the four pirate lords. Though I’m curious to know which ones.”

“Mistress Ching, Capitaine Chevalle, and Dona Pirata.” 

“And that would leave…?”

“King Samuel.” The only pirate lord who had not been in support of Jack’s pardon. Lucky for him, piracy was a democracy of sorts, and so majority rules had undermined Samuel’s objection. “Though I never counted on him anyway.”

Barbossa sat back and ran his fingers through his beard in apparent thought. “And them be the only ones what presided over your little meetin’. Is that right?”

“More or less,” Jack affirmed, and he took a careful swig from his cup. “Teague’ll have invited all nine of the pirate lords, I expect, seeing as they’ve all got a right to pass judgement in trial. I suppose the rest didn’t care enough one way or the other to show up.”

“And why do you think that is?” 

“Well, not all of them were even affected by the rogues to begin with. They didn’t lose any ships or men over this, so why should they care about my living or dying?” Jack rocked back in his chair. “If I had to guess, Ammand and Villanueva are probably too busy chasing each other around the Adriatic to care about the likes of me. And the day the honorable Sri Sumbhajee answers a summons to Shipwreck City, I’ll eat my hat.” 

Barbossa narrowed his eyes. “And what of Sao Feng?” 

A slow smile spread across Jack’s face. “Ah, now _that_ is interesting. According to Captain Teague, Sao Feng sent word ahead that he’d be here for the trial weeks ago. His envoy made it out that they were less than a fortnight away. But he never showed.”

“Curious.” Barbossa combed his fingers through his beard in thought. “And what do ye believe happened there?” 

“Dunno. Your guess is as good as mine,” Jack said, and the conversation lapsed briefly into silence. Jack drained the last of his tankard in one pull and glanced around, hoping to spy Esmeralda at the door, but before he could stand Barbossa waved for another round, and Jack was forced to nod in thanks as his drink was replaced. 

“So then, it would seem Sao Feng is no friend to you,” Barbossa drawled as he re-filled his wine goblet. “Lucky for ye that these other four cared enough to pardon your crimes.”

Jack laughed drily. “I don’t think they necessarily cared about me, if that’s what you’re implying.” Of the four lords who had attended his trial, Jack figured Esmeralda was likely the only one who cared whether he lived or died. Perhaps Mistress Ching as well, to a lesser extent, though that was assuming the fondness she’d had for him as a little boy had carried over to his adulthood. That seemed unlikely. As for Chevalle’s support, Jack had no explanation. He had no relationship with the French pirate, no friendly ties or outstanding debts, and so Jack had to assume that the argument for his innocence had compelled the man to vote in his favor, making Chevalle’s the only honest vote of the lot of them. 

Jack decided this information was best kept to himself, and instead said to Barbossa, “I can tell you one thing for certain. The only reason King Samuel voted against me is because he deals in the bloody slave trade, and to vote in favor of my innocence would be to approve of my methods.”

“I heard about that,” Barbossa said. “Freed a whole ship full of slaves right out from under the company’s nose. Made quite the hero of yourself. Or the villain, dependin’ on how ye look at it.”

Jack merely smiled, tired of talking about the circumstances of his exile, and decided to turn the conversation around. “And what about you…?” Jack hesitated over whether to address the old pirate as ‘Captain’ or simply ‘Barbossa.’ There was no knowing whether he’d ever acquired another ship after the Cobra, so first names would have to do. “...Hector?”

Barbossa looked immediately less comfortable. “What about me?” he growled. 

“You seem to know all about my misadventures. What sort of trouble have you been up to as of late?” 

“I figured that would’ve been obvious,” Barbossa said incredulously. “I joined the hunting party. Been trollin’ these waters in search of rogues. After the first year, Cap’n Teague was rid of it, and I been leadin’ it on ever since.” 

_Ever since you released the rogues in the first place._

The words were left unsaid, but Jack could hear them in Barbossa’s tone, see them in the way his fists clenched and his eyebrows knit together. Were it not for Jack’s interference five years ago, Barbossa would have received justice for the rogue pirates’ actions, and Jack would never have been cast into exile. 

Jack squirmed. “So you got a new ship, then?” 

“No,” Barbossa said shortly, and his scowl deepened. “Your father was good enough to lend me one of his own. Said we shared a purpose. Good man, Teague.”

Jack resented hearing the words ‘father’ and ‘Teague’ in the same sentence, but made an effort not to let it show. He concentrated instead on the burning shame that accompanied revealing Barbossa’s borrowed station and took a drink. Before he could think of another way to put his foot in his mouth, Barbossa rescued him. 

“I hear ye’ve got yourself a fine ship now.” 

“Aye.” Jack perked up at mention of his boat, but quickly reigned himself in. Barbossa motioned for him to continue and so he described her as modestly as he could. “She’s a compact little thing. A cross between a galleon and an East Indiaman.”

“How many guns?” 

“Thirty-six twelve-pounders. Fourteen upper, eighteen lower.”

“Chasers?”

“None,” Jack said. “But she don’t need ‘em. She’s quite fast.”

“And does she have a name?”

“The Black Pearl,” Jack said, and he smiled in spite of himself. 

Barbossa’s eyes narrowed momentarily. He took a swig of wine, swished it around his mouth and swallowed. When he smiled, his lips were stained blood red. 

“Well, Jack,” Barbossa said, “I’d love to see this Black Pearl o’ yours. Assumin’ ye’ve got the time.”


End file.
